Area 51
by NightElfCrawler
Summary: It was an accident. But that's how genius is normally made, through accidents. But this accident had the ability to change the way the world saw them, and their own lives forever. Rated M for language and intimacy later.
1. Chapter 1

**Area 51**

By: nightelfcrawler

_Author's Note: For those who are wondering, this story is influenced by the recent release of the movie District 9. I came up with the idea before seeing the movie, though I cannot deny the trailer didn't influence the idea. Seeing the movie just got the plot bunny going, so I decided why not advance and actually start publishing it. It's also based off an RP between myself and SkyTangent (^_~), which has gone a different direction from this story yet still contains similarities. I haven't seen this concept used much, so hopefully it'll be a taste of amusement for you._

_Author's note 2: Yes... I have too many stories in progress. I will try to update each one regularly, but no promises! I can't give you ideas when "x-story" will be worked on, sorry! _

_Author's note 3: Um. Not sure if the slash warning applies here... read yourself to find out._

_Author's note 4: No, Sam is not Sam Witwicky. No, these characters are not OCs or Mary Sues. *grins evilly* _

* * *

**Chapter One**

It was an accident. But then, isn't how these things all start, accidents? None of us ever expected that anything would happen like this, and if someone had shown us a snapshot of our lives now, back then, we probably would have laughed and called them insane.

But it's the unfortunate reality now. And we have to live with it the rest of our lives. Every time I look in a mirror, I see a monster, a freak, something to be loathed and hated. But it's me. There is no going back, I know that now.

So what can we do about it? Well, there's only one answer.

We have to take matters into our own hands. Our survival depends on it.

_excerpt, personal diary, Sara Schriver, Lead Scientist Cybernetic Division, Area 51._

* * *

I know what she thinks. I see how she looks at me when I tell her she's beautiful. She thinks I'm crazy. Yes, I know the irony. I never told her how beautiful she was before, but now suddenly I'm able to say it. I don't know why it is, perhaps it's a newfound confidence knowing there's nothing we can do, that we have to make best of a situation we cannot change. But still, I think out of everyone in the whole facility, she's taking it the hardest. She lost a lot, I mean we all lost something, but how many people here could say that their whole life's work was just ripped out from under their feet, stolen and told it wasn't yours, by the government no less. She was understandably broken up over it.

But I'm a bit worried about what they're planning. By them, I mean the military types. For some reason she's joined up with meeting with them, talking in small groups at all hours of the night, planning something. I worry that she might be involved in something that could culminate in a coup. And if that happens… people will die.

I just hope she won't do anything drastic.

_excerpt, personal diary, Sam Fuller, Lead Researcher, Cybernetic Division, Area 51._

* * *

The wind was howling today, as was common, but the sharp stinging sand that bit against his skin told him that there might be a sand-storm later. Opening the door to his jeep, Sam stepped out onto the blacktop, feeling the heat already beginning to radiate off the pavement, slipping his sunglasses over his sandy blonde hair, blue eyes scanning the complex. As usual, there were few cars here this early. But one did stand out. Parked right up front was a shiny, brand-new bright red Ford Mustang convertible, waxed and polished, chrome gleaming in the bright morning sunlight. Sam smiled. Of course, SHE would be here early. No doubt she was there to get some work done while everyone else stumbled in with their first cup of coffee. He chuckled quietly, shutting the jeep's door and pulling his badge out of the center cup holder, slinging it over his neatly pressed shirt and tie. He absently ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down as he walked towards the base entrance.

"Morning Sam." The soldier at the guard cubicle barely looked up as he approached. "Working early today?"

"You know me, first to arrive, last to leave."

"Not quite, sir." He got a wry smile as he swiped his coded card into the door panel. "Sara beat you to it. She got here before sun-up."

"Good grief, does she ever sleep?"

"I don't think so sir. She seems to run on coffee."

"Half of us do around here. Someone really should make a better sludge to keep us running."

"Can't argue there."

Sam smiled and nodded, opening the door and stepping within, striding down the dimly lit hallway to the dressing room where he opened his locker, pulling his lab coat out and donning it before continuing down the hallway to the elevator at the other end. It was a simple lift, nothing fancy or ornate. Most people thought Area 51 was this big high-tech secret lab that did alien experiments, had all kinds of strange artifacts and was a place that if you left you wouldn't come out of. It couldn't be any further from the truth, however. Area 51 was a top-secret government facility, and what they did was very important, but in all his time here, Sam had never seen a single little green man, spaceship, or other alien artifact.

He had, however, created his fair share of 'aliens'.

The lift doors opened and he stepped out into the five-tier laboratory, silent and humming with equipment, but devoid of people. Sam peered over the railing to the bottom floor, three down, and saw someone in a white coat moving about. He smiled then turned and jogged down the circular stairs on the outer ring, heading to the bottom. Sure enough, leaning over a microscope, her dark hair pulled up out of her face in a bun atop her head was Sara, completely oblivious to his arrival. She was jotting notes down on a pad of paper in between staring at whatever it was she was investigating, a few strands of black hair falling free of her bun and dangling in front of her face as she angrily blew them away. "Please don't tell me you've been here all night." Sam said, smiling as he approached.

Sara glanced over at him, brown eyes sharp and slightly irritated as she took note of his arrival, straightening up and turning around to stare at him. Sam tried not to let his gaze waver down to stare, though she was immaculately dressed as always, neatly pressed grey slacks matched with navy blue high heels, a white blouse and simple but elegant jewelry with her lab coat thrown over it. The problem with staring at Sara Schriver was that she noticed you staring, and normally that was not a good thing. Her tongue was about as sharp as her gaze when she glared you down. That was why Sam found her so alluring, as did most men. She was the smartest person on this base, hands down. But oh, did she have the ego to accompany it. For most, this was a very bad thing, since she could talk you down to the floor using words that most of the men on this base couldn't even begin to understand, and by the time the figured out it was an insult, she was done and walking away, smug in her victory. For Sam however, she seemed not prone to lashing out. Perhaps it was because they had to work so closely together, perhaps it was because he didn't treat her like the others did, eye candy. They saw her as untouchable, mostly because she made herself so. She was beautiful, smart and quick, something that was a deadly combination.

And Sam was completely head-over-heels in love with her.

She didn't know it, of course. Or if she did, she hid it well. In either way, she didn't treat him any different from the other men, with the exception that perhaps she tolerated him a little more since his brains were nearly matched to hers. "You're in early." She commented, lifting a finely arched eyebrow to stare at him curiously. "I thought you didn't get up before sun-up."

"The sun is up, Sara." Sam smiled, approaching and grabbing a clipboard, checking the data read-outs from the overnight crew. "You just work too hard to know when time passes."

"Jesus, is it past seven?" She sighed, pulling the small glasses off her nose and rubbing at her eyes.

Sam peered at her. "Don't tell me you've been here all night? Did you even go home?"

"No." Was the tired response. She glanced up at him, and he noticed her eyes were bloodshot. Again. This wasn't the first time she'd pulled an all-nighter. She had the habit of being drawn into her work, losing track of time. He'd known her for just about five years now, working closely with her on a daily basis. He knew her well enough to know exactly what she was like.

Reaching over to the staff table, he poured her a cup of coffee, pushing it into her hands. "Take a break. What are you working on anyway that's demanded your attention all night?"

"Oh these nanites." She waved a hand lightly to the table. "There was some mutations overnight that has me completely baffled. I know you programmed them to learn and evolve on their own in order to consume other material as test subjects, but what has me completely puzzled is the fact that the one you programmed seems to have spread the programming to others. It's almost as if they're communicating, relating to one another, which I think is a significant indication of their growth potential."

"You're right, it is." He agreed, leaning over to stare at the data she'd jotted down on the paper. "Sharing information between nanites indicates that they're finally on the right path, learning to communicate with the others. This could be a significant breakthrough!" He reached for the notes over her shoulder and was smacked in the hand by carefully manicured nails and a scowl. "Sorry. Still, have you introduced other compounds into their environment yet? So far, they haven't broken down anything else other than the metal fragments we've dropped in there for them to decompose into the organic. Granted, that's their function of course, but if we want these little guys to tackle the world's dumps, we need them to be able to digest not just metal, but glass, plastic, rubber, you name it."

"You don't have to lecture me, Sam. I know what we designed them for." Sara said sharply, glancing up at him as she sipped her coffee. "What I want to know is, why are they mutating on their own, reprogramming themselves without our control? If this gets out of hand, it could cause serious problems, you realize?"

He blinked. "How so?"

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes. "Just what do you think would happen if they decided our skin tasted good instead of rusted metal, hm? Then we'd have a new epidemic on our hands."

"Oh. Right."

She pushed his shoulder, making him back off a bit as she pushed past him and sat down at her computer console, typing in her password. "I think we're on the right path though. We just have to go about this carefully." She glanced up at him, frowning slightly. "It could go wrong if we're not cautious." She paused. "Make sure that klutz, what's his name, doesn't come NEAR the samples."

"Oh you mean Robert?"

"The guy with the red hair afro. Red. Him."

"Yeah, Robert."

"Whatever. He has the habit of knocking ANYTHING fragile and important over, no matter where it is in the room, how well protected it is, or WHAT it is."

Sam smiled. "He means well. He's just a bit…ah…"

"Accident prone?" She glanced up. "I don't care. He doesn't come near this lab, got it?"

"Yes ma'm." Sam smiled shaking his head and moving over to the microscope, peering in to take stock of the research himself. "It's amazing, the rate this project has gone the moment we finally built and charged the nanites. Five years of tedious programming, and we're making progress I never dreamed of seeing in a year, let alone one month."

She smirked, sipping her coffee. "Nobel Peace Prize, here we come. Can you imagine it. We're going to be absolutely famous. Ridding the world of it's junk and garbage, turning all those unused refrigerators, cars and scrap metal into fertilizer to feed our crops. We're going to be SO rich."

"Is that all that matters to you, money?" Sam frowned slightly, glancing back at her.

"Of course not." She said smoothly, lifting her eyes to stare at him intently. "I'm all about fame too."

"You're so narcissistic."

"I'm a woman."

Sam shook his head, doing his best not to laugh out loud. "And that explains everything? You know, there ARE other women on the base."

"Pfft. None of them are classy."

"You'd better not let them hear you say that."

"Oh please. There are what, three? Four other women on base?"

"I think there's eight, ten if you count the two lab technicians on the 2nd floor."

"You mean the two transvestites?"

"They're not transvestites, just gay, Sara."

"Whatever. They wear makeup."

"Terry doesn't, just Steve."

"Whatever. Each to their own, but they're not 'girls' to me." She snorted, tossing her glasses onto the table and leaning back, kicking her heeled feet up over the edge of the desk, lounging there casually. "And to be honest, being a woman on this base is not necessarily a good thing."

He grimaced. "Oh come on, you're not still complaining about the General, are you?"

"He's a prick. A complete and utter prick."

"So? You don't have to report to him you know. The base commander is the civilian representative, and he's quite nice."

"Yes, yes, Orson is very ship-shape." She smirked. "Reminds me of you, only not stuffy and British."

"Hey!"

"Oh relax." She waved a hand, laughing softly. "You know I respect him, even if he is a bit soft when it comes to dealing with the General."

"Well, the General is the military representative of the base. He has a lot of sway."

"Yes, but the Base Commander reports directly to the Secretary of Defense. The General's just assigned here to make sure we don't blow up the place."

"True." He put his coffee mug down, leaning forward over his knees at her. "Still, don't let it bother you. If the General gets frisky on you again, file another complaint. No one can get away with sexual harassment these days, especially in the military."

"Whatever." Sara sighed, glancing over her shoulder as Percy Stanton walked in, nodding over at them before going to his terminal, dumping his paperwork all over the computer. "Well, I suppose it's time to get to work then."

"Jack will be in late." Percy announced, glancing over his shoulder. He was a short but thin man, slightly balding on the top of his head, spectacles perched on his nose as he looked over at them owlishly. "He got a flat tire and is stuck on the road outside the 93."

"Good grief. He's almost as bad as Red is with attracting trouble. I swear, this is the fifth flat in a month. The guy LOVES to blow up tires."

"Well he drives that old jalopy. It's not in the best condition."

"Whatever." Sara sighed. "I guess we'll just have to take care of the analysis without him. Are the techs in here yet?"

"Yes, they're working on level three." Percy agreed. "Should I get them?"

"Please. We have more than a few tests to run today."

"You got it."

Sam shook his head. It never ceased to amaze him just how forward Sara was when it came to business. The woman was smart, and that was no exaggeration. She knew just about everything there was to know about science. Give her a problem, she didn't stop until she had it solved. And it didn't hurt that she was insanely beautiful to boot. He sighed as he typed in his password and did his best not to watch her as she leaned over the bench, her long legs elegant beneath the lab coat.

Dang it. This wasn't helping.

Their work for the past five years was one of the most advanced sections the government sanctioned for it's employees anywhere. Their work, created by both the programming genius of himself and Sara's scientific mastery, had been the culmination of many years of research and study funded by the government. The concept behind the program was to find an effective way to solve the planet's pollutant problem. Dumps were filling up, oceans were becoming contaminated. They had to find a way to destroy the garbage so that they didn't kill themselves by killing off all the fish, destroying rivers, and spilling toxic chemicals in places that affected people. The concept behind the program was to build nanites, tiny microscopic computer organisms that would break down materials they were programmed to break down, turning them into organic compost and thus making the non-biodegradable garbage easy to break down and recycle into fertilizer. If they succeeded, it would solve the garbage situation for the entire world, clean up the junk in orbit around earth, and enable large buildings or other difficult objects to be destroyed by simply spreading the nanites on them and letting them eat away the cement from the base elements down, turning it into dirt.

It was a brilliant concept. Not so easy to implement.

Sam had been brought into the project after Sara pitched it to a biotech firm, and had been turned down. The word had gotten out somehow to the government, and they had eagerly employed her in the hopes of developing the nanites for other purposes, which Sam did his best not to think about. He knew they wanted to develop it into a weapon for warfare. It would be so easy to use it as a biological agent, and he couldn't even begin to imagine if they wanted to turn the weapon into something to attack human flesh. He had brought up these concerns privately with Sara, and she had agreed that this would not be a good thing. She agreed that no matter what they threatened her with, she wouldn't allow it. Seeing that Sara and Sam were the two scientists in charge, and the only ones who knew the coding of the nanites, they felt fairly certain that the weapon couldn't be mishandled as long as they agreed to keep their knowledge to themselves. Since there was no one else who knew the coding, they were fairly certain that it couldn't get out of control.

But the lure of fame and fortune was quite a draw for them both.

If only they had known what really would happen, they both likely would have quit right then and there.

It was sometime around noon when it happened. Sam didn't know exactly how, but he was roused from his report by a suddenly loud blaring alarm through the base. Looking up sharply, he saw the red emergency lights flashing in the hallways and above the door, and rose swiftly to his feet, running into the main lab in a heartbeat. He encountered pure chaos. Lab technicians were scrambling to and fro, yelling loudly. Sara was in the middle of the room, barking orders and pointing people in various directions. "Now! Get it sealed off! You heard me! I want this whole level sealed!"

"We can't, ma'm!" Red was panting, looking flustered. "The security doors are being worked on today!"

"What?!" Sara's eyes widened. "You mean this whole base is vulnerable?"

Red gave her a frightened stare. "Yes ma'm."

"The ventilation system will circulate it." She said quickly. "Shut it down. Now. The sooner we do that, the less this will spread. Call the General, let him know what's going on, and that he needs to quarantine the base. Get a containment team down here, we're going to need to scrub everyone in the base before they leave."

"Yes ma'm."

"What's going on?" Sam approached her, frowning as he watched lab technicians scrambling to cordon off the workbench area.

"We're not sure." Sara whipped her head around, staring at him with wide eyes. "But somehow, some way, the vials holding the nanites melted."

"Melted?!" His head shot up, staring at the plastic quarantine box the techs were setting up. "They ate through the glass?!"

"Yes." She said tersely, running a hand through her hair, sighing in frustration. "Which is NOT a good sign."

"No, it's not." He frowned. "What do you think exposure to these things will do?"

"Hopefully nothing." She said grimly, glancing up at him. "You coded them, you know better than I. You're sure that they're not supposed to attack anything other than metal, right?"

"Yes. I hand-programmed each line of code. They should only be decomposing metal, with exception to the ones we tested on pieces of silicone."

She frowned. "Silicone. Glass is silicone based. Do you think the mutations I noticed would allow them to eat through glass?"

He winced. "It might, yes. I can't be certain."

"And what do you think would happen if we're exposed?"

"Theoretically, nothing." He agreed. "They're programmed to attack metal and silicone. So they shouldn't harm tissue. But they could cause a great deal of damage to the facility if they get into the walls."

"Right." She agreed grimly. "Co-ordinate the quarantine efforts. I need to call the General and let him know what's going on." She turned and strode over to the phone in her office, visible from the glass between the lab and that room.

Sam sighed. He didn't envy her position of having to notify the General of the situation. Any breech of containment meant money down the drain, and black marks on their records. It wasn't a good thing to have, but on the other hand it was necessary. He sighed, but quickly moved to oversee the containment. He half-glanced over at Sara, watching her argue over the phone in silence through the closed door, and felt a sway of sympathy for her situation. After some time, she hung up and stormed out, eyes narrow in dislike and lips set in a thin line. "I take it he wasn't happy?"

"No." She growled. "Not at all. The containment's being set up. No one goes in or out until we've all been scrubbed. They're setting up shop in the medical ward and a team is coming down to scorch the place."

"What!?" He gasped. "If they do that, we'll lose our work! Years of research!"

"So get them all contained before they get here!" She snapped sharply.

"Right."

"We've got them mostly captured, ma'm." Percy held up a plastic container. "They seem unable to eat through this, especially when we charge it with a small level electric pulse. We think we've caught them all, we swept the area searching for the radioactive markers you left in each one, and we didn't find any others roaming around free."

"Thank goodness." Sam breathed. "So at least our research is preserved before they torch the place."

"At least today wasn't a total loss," Sara grumbled, glancing over her shoulder as the containment crew arrived.

"All right, all of you." All the techs glanced up to see a man in security uniform step forward, face somber. "Into decontamination, now. No complaining. All of you now. Dr. Schriever, Dr. Fuller, a word please."

Sara sighed, rolling her eyes a bit, but quickly walked over to the side where he stood. "Paul." She said grimly. "It's not necessary, we've contained the nannies. There's no damage to the walls that we can note."

"Still, I'd like to make sure." Paul answered shaking his head. "Protocol. You understand how these things go."

"Unnecessary." She muttered. "Completely unnecessary you tight-assed prick."

"Oh come on, give him a break." Sam murmured to her. "He's head of security it's his job."

"Whoop de doo. Look how impressed I am."

Decontamination was not a fun process, for any familiar with it. It involves stripping, being scrubbed down with various chemicals and then poked, prodded and checked out by the doctor, who was not a very gentle one. By the end of the day when finally they were given the all-clear, Sam and Sara both were tired and cranky, dropping their lab coats off in their lockers as they headed towards the door. The sun had set already, and most of the other staff had been let go earlier. They were the last to depart, walking together to their respective cars. As Sara pulled her keys out, Sam smiled grimly. "What a day, eh?"

"Yes." She sighed, glancing up at him. "I hope tomorrow is somewhat normal at least. We can figure out what went wrong and try to make sense of this mess."

He smiled. "Yes. But you can't claim our jobs are boring."

She laughed. "No. No I can't."

"So." He shifted uncomfortably. "Um, would you like to get together for a glass of wine or something?"

She blinked. Then blinked again, eyebrows arching up in obvious surprise. "Why Sam, are you asking me out on a date?"

His face heated quickly. "Um. Well, yes I suppose so." He avoided looking at her, scratching at his arm distractedly. "I mean, I know it's been a long day, but what better to do than try and talk this out together. We might find a solution."

Her lips curled into an amused smirk. "I see. So it's strictly work related then?"

Sam sighed, looking up at her guiltily. "Well… no, forget it. It was an entirely poor idea."

"No. It wasn't. I would love to have a glass of wine with you, Sam."

He blinked, feeling a flush creep into his cheeks. "Really? You would?"

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes. "I see how you've been looking at me lately. I know what's going through your mind, you and every other man on that base."

He grimaced. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes."

"So… if you've known, why are you agreeing to it, if I'm like all the other men."

"I didn't say that." She said coyly, walking up to him and tugging lightly on his collar, straightening a wrinkle there. "I said I knew what was going through your mind, like the others, not that you were like the others."

"I'm not then?"

"No, of course not." She smirked. "You see, unlike the other men, you know how to keep your thoughts mostly to yourself and behave like a gentleman."

"I blame it on my English upbringing."

"Whatever the cause," She lightly pecked him on the cheek. "It's about damn time."

Sam smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Area 51**

By: nightelfcrawler

**Chapter Two**

* * *

A baked chicken, potatoes, greens and plenty of wine flowed across the table that night. They discussed the days' events, and what they believed might be the solution, but in the end neither of them came up with any progress as to WHY it had happened. Eventually, Sara took her leave, claiming she had to try and get SOME sleep in the week, and Sam smiled, watching her step into the taxi he had called to take her home. Vegas was a colorful place, none too respected in some regards, but if one looked past it's reputation there were good places to live. Most of the scientists lived in the Vegas metro area, most small towns close to the base were too tiny to call home. Still, he missed the good-old English countryside. Their dinner discussion had broached that topic, talking of his roots and hers. He had attended Oxford, she Harvard. He lived alone, his mother the only surviving immediately relative of his family, she had a large one spread out across the country. He was modest, she was not. They were an interesting pair of opposites, yet oddly shared a similar like interest of science and intelligence. In the end, their conversation had grown less coherent as the wine took hold, and they had finally ended their session in favor of the line that shouldn't be crossed on their first encounter.

In the end, Sam was quite pleased with the evening. It had gone far better than he had ever hoped. Sara had smiled upon leaving, kissing his cheek fondly, and since then he had felt as if he were floating on a cloud. He'd found it hard to get to sleep after that, and tossed restlessly through the night until finally giving up sometime before dawn, rising and brewing himself some coffee to help shave off the grogginess from lack of sleep.

Idly, he scratched his arm beneath the robe as he stared out at the desert horizon, watching the mountains in the distance lighten as the sun started to rise. He grimaced as a sharp pain drew his attention as he scratched. Carefully, he pulled the sleeve up, staring at his forearm. Spreading up from his wrist to his elbow joint, a red rash looked swollen and angry on his arm. "Bloody hell." He muttered, carefully setting the coffee mug down and walking over to a lamp, turning it on to get a better look. The skin was enflamed, swollen and red, tender to the touch. His fingernails had scratched a cut in the surface, blood trickling down his arm slowly from the cut. "Damn." He muttered, walking down the hall to the bathroom and opening the vanity, pulling out the first aid kit. Sighing, he ran his arm under the faucet, the cold water a relieving shock against the angry red welt. "Curious." He muttered to himself, running a finger down the rash. It was unlike any rash he'd ever seen, now that he got a closer look. The skin was puffed, raw, but it was also hard to the touch as he pushed down on it, grimacing at the pain. Most enflamed areas were tender, but never hard unless there was deep muscle damage, like a sprain or break. But there was no resistance as he pushed, and as he did, he noticed the area that he pushed turned pale, white, and was slow to regain color. He frowned, studying it warily before wrapping the area in gauze, staring at his reflection in thought as he finished. He looked tired, but there seemed to be no other rash. However, it's existence bothered him greatly. What might have caused a rash? Was it a reaction to the chemicals they had scrubbed down with the day before? He'd never been exposed to them before, so it was possible.

However, there was a wary feeling gnawing at his gut that told him there was something else going on.

The ride out to the base was long, on a day such as today. By the time he reached the gate and was waved through, he felt tired already, the coffee having worn off. He was only too eager to retreat back down to the lab, a bit surprised at finding that it was empty. The base still smelled of chemicals, sadly, and he wrinkled his nose as he sat down in his chair, picking up the piles of reports and studying them with a sigh. All the paperwork from the accident yesterday was overwhelming. He began to see why Sara dreaded 'accidents'. Not just for their informational loss, but for all this. But then again, sometimes the best creations, the best inventions were created by accident. This could be a blessing in disguise.

He glanced up from pouring coffee in time to see Sara walk in. Her dark hair was loose, hanging over her shoulders in long waves, she had a pair of stylish sunglasses on. She paused slightly spotting him and smiled thinly. "Morning. Tell me you have as bad of a hangover as I do."

He laughed. "You had more wine than I did. I think you drank a whole bottle last night."

"Umf." She grunted, pulling her sunglasses off and folding them up, grimacing as she squinted in the bright florescent light, putting a hand over her eyes as she sunk down onto her stool. "I hate hangovers."

"Here." He offered a cup of coffee. She accepted it gratefully with a small smile, sipping it and making a face. "Sorry, I made it extra strong. I kind of needed it, couldn't sleep."

"Join the club." She agreed, sighing. "Thanks just the same."

"Hey, cheer up. Everything's fine. We just have to figure out what happened yesterday, and report to the General who's likely pissed, then hope we don't get fired."

"OH joy. See how ecstatic I am." She said in a flat voice, devoid of emotion.

Sam laughed and shook his head, squeezing her shoulder. "Relax, you're so tense…" He trailed off, frowning. Something wasn't right. His grip on her shoulder tightened, and she shrugged out form underneath him, making a small uncomfortable grunt. "Sara… what's…?"

"It's nothing." She wormed her shoulder out from under him. "Just a reaction to the chemicals, I guess."

Alarm slowly swept through him, and he grabbed her shoulder again, refusing to let go when she squirmed. "Sara… let me see."

"I said it's fine!"

"Please, just humor me." He said softly. She grimaced but looked away, not resisting as he carefully pulled the collar of her blouse aside, baring her upper shoulder so he could see the area affected.

The sight made his stomach lurch.

Deep red gouges were visible running down her shoulder around a red bra strap where fingernails had scratched. The area was inflamed as his arm was, blotchy, and hard. He gently touched one of the gouge marks, and she hissed in a low voice, wrenching away from him. "Sorry." He apologized, quickly pushing her blouse back up for her. "I didn't hurt you too much I hope?"

"It's fine. Just a rash." She muttered, adjusting the blouse. "I'm sure it will heal up in a day or so."

He frowned, and pulled his stool closer, rolling it next to her and putting a hand on her arm. He bared his own arm, pulling the shirt sleeve up, and carefully unwrapped the bandage. She glanced down, eyes widening as she saw the affected area on his arm. "God, Sam." Her hand came up, gently touching the red area. He grimaced but said nothing, not wishing to alarm her, or make her stop. "When did you notice this?"

"This morning, but I started scratching at the area last night." He admitted quietly. "I'm not so sure it's unrelated. What are the chances of both of us developing a rash from the chemicals? These things are supposedly safe for humans."

"So they are." She whispered quietly, lifting her gaze to stare at him intently. "I find it very odd that this is happening to both of us. It's too much of a coincidence."

"I agree." He said quietly, turning his arm over slowly. "Do you think there might be another cause?"

"The nanites?" She murmured. "I don't see how it's possible, but…"

"We can't rule it out." He finished for her. "I agree. The question is, what are they doing, and can we stop it."

"Here, hold still." She said quickly, turning and grabbing a microscope slide and a small razor, coming over and hovering over his arm. "This will hurt like hell… sorry."

He grimaced. "Got it. Just make it quick."

She carefully brought the razor down, and he closed his eyes, clenching his other fist as he felt the blade slice through his skin. She carefully took a small piece, a tiny knick nothing bigger than a shaving razor would do, but it did hurt quite a bit. She was quick to finish, and once she had he dabbed the area with the gauze, pressing down on it as he followed her over to the microscope to study the results. She carefully tuned in the dial, then peered in. For a long moment, there was absolute silence, then she sat back slowly, a dazed expression on her face. "They are nanites." She confirmed quietly, glancing up at him with wide eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep yet again. "And there are hundreds of them."

Sam's blood ran cold. "Dear God. How can that be? We only created a handful of them! No more than fifty, how can I have hundreds on my skin?"

"Not on." She said quietly, fixing him with an uncomfortable look. "In. They're in your blood. IN your cells."

He could feel his face draining of color as she said it, and without waiting to hear another word, he turned and quickly rose, practically running towards the nearest bathroom, not pausing when he heard her call out to him. All he could focus on was one thing, which he promptly did the moment he found a stall to do it in. He was very relieved when he finally straightened, sweat pouring down his face as he leaned back against the metal stall, glad no one was there to witness that. He hadn't had much to empty, but that hadn't mattered.

Nanites in his blood. Now THAT was a frightening concept. One or two, he could handle, that could be removed easily. But hundreds? That meant that not only had they all been exposed, but the nanites had mutated on their own, and begun replicating themselves. And that meant only one thing.

This was going to become an epidemic.

Soft footfalls sounded, distinct clicking of high-heeled feet, and moments later Sara's dark-haired head poked into the stall, peering down at him worriedly. "You ok?"

"Yeah." He sighed, his head thunking back against the wall. "Sorry about that. I guess I just…"

"Panicked?" She smiled thinly, leaning against the door, crossing her arms. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you left so I could do mine in private."

"Somehow I don't see you vomiting in the trash can."

She smiled thinly. "No. I just threw something across the room and destroyed my computer instead."

"Lovely." He smiled up at her. "Productive."

"It made me feel better." She crouched down, neatly smoothing her slacks as she knelt beside him. "This thing scares the crap out of me, Sam. I'm not afraid to admit that."

"So you figured out what this means then."

"That they're multiplying, replicating?" She nodded, running a hand through her hair nervously. "Yes, I figured that."

"What does this mean?" He glanced up at her, frowning slightly. "Is it like a flesh-eating bacteria? Will we have to cut off the affected areas?"

She was silent for a while, staring absently at the ground with a distant look. "I don't think that will help." She finally said quietly. "I checked to make sure, but the nannites are in my blood as well. The sample I took was from an uninfected area." She grimaced. "The concentration was less, but they were still present."

"Jesus. You mean they're through our whole bodies?"

"It seems so." She agreed quietly.

He groaned, his head smacking against the stall again. "Bloody hell." She was silent, staring absently at the wall still. "We need to find out how they're coded, what they're doing. If they're breaking down our tissue, this could become very serious, very fast, and there's nothing the doc can do. We need to find a way to kill these things, and do it without killing us in the process."

"How?" She asked softly, glancing up at him, eyes wary. "They're machines, self-powered by kinetic energy. The ones that aren't active supposedly should shut down and become dormant, but that's only if there's no content for them to operate on. Since they're active on our tissue, that means they're feeding off of it, and are not going to shut down. And if we're infected, there's a high likelihood that the rest of the base could be exposed as well."

"What are we going to do?" He asked quietly. "We don't even know HOW they mutated."

"Then we need to find out, and quickly." She said grimly. "Come on. No one else has checked in yet, we might have the lab to ourselves today. Let's make good use of it."

He grabbed her hand as she offered it, standing up quickly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as they walked back down the hall to the lab. His insides still felt queasy at the realization of what they were dealing with. This situation had suddenly gotten out of control. It had gone from a mere accident to an epidemic, and a potential deadly one. If these nannites were eating away at their bodies, there was no telling what would happen if they reached a major organ. They could die instantly if a hole in the heart appeared, or a key nerve was cut. The thought made him feel violently ill again, but he held it in. He had no desire to embarrass himself again.

"Ok." He said, sitting down on the chair in front of his computer shakily. "What do we know."

"We know we're both infected, we know the nanites are able to consume organic tissue." Sara replied slowly. "We know they're multiplying, and apparently growing in numbers, which means theoretically the process could accelerate the more of them they create. There's no way of developing a timeline yet until we witness more of these rashes, and see how far they spread." She took a deep breath. "We need to come up with a solution, and fast. And we need to inform everyone the moment we have something."

"You don't think this might be able to spread beyond the base, do you?" he asked quietly, frowning up at her.

"No." She said quickly, shaking her head. "I scanned the room while you were… gone. I found no nannites loose in this room, or the hallway, or anywhere else, only inside the containers we have them in on the table. I think that the decontamination process did kill them, they need to live in organic tissue to survive, thanks to this mutation. I don't think they could spread by direct contact or exposure. However bodily contact, I can't rule that out."

"Shit." Sam groaned. "We need to warn people immediately. We need everyone in the base and their spouses brought in, checked, and if they're clean they need to be released. We need to get a hold on this situation now before it gets out there into the general population."

Sara grimaced, but rose quickly. "You're right. I'll call the General. In the meantime, study those nanites, see if you can download their coding and find out what they're doing. That's the only way of reversing this, if we can program them to go in reverse, or shut down. The rashes should heal if we can just turn them off."

"Got it."

It was one thing to say 'do this'. It was another thing entirely to make it happen. Sam studied the microscope intently, jotting down notes as he watched the nannites move about. On one hand, it was absolutely fascinating. On the other hand, it was frightening. He could see them replicating themselves, spreading on the small example of tissue they had taken. They seemed capable of replicating once every hour, from what he saw, per nanite. Combine that with the hundreds, potentially thousands now infecting them, and they had a serious problem.

And that wasn't the most alarming part.

At first, he thought that they were just consuming the tissue and turning it into waste like they were designed to do. But when he began to find there was no residue of any sort being left behind, no compounds being broken down by their actions, he tried to figure out why. When he did, he felt a swell of wonder and fear wash through him.

"Any luck?" He started, glancing up as Sara walked back into the room, her expression grim.

"Yes, actually." He said slowly. "Did you speak with the General?"

"Yes. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. But, he's co-coordinating an effort to get everyone who worked yesterday here, with their families and anyone they came in contact with. We're going to set up an isolation room up in the rec room. I've asked the doc to join us, we should show him what to look for. He can take blood samples, analyze them, and if they come up clean they can go home. Those who aren't need to remain here until we can find out how to stop this from progressing worse."

"Sounds like a good plan." Sam agreed, rubbing his arm, wincing as a strange tingling sensation flooded up through it.

"What have you found out?" she asked quietly, pulling a stool closer and sitting down, chewing on her lip.

"Nothing and everything." He murmured, sighing. "They're not breaking down our skin into waste products, that much I found out." She frowned, studying him worriedly, silently urging him to continue. "They're changing our cellular make-up on a microscopic level, Sara. They're altering our chemical makeup."

"Dear God." She whispered, eyes widening. "They're changing our DNA? To what?"

"I can't make that out yet." He said grimly. "It's a compound I don't recognize. It has the same properties as our DNA, organic based, but there's something else in there too, something I don't quite recognize. It's got a chemical makeup I recognize, but it's different enough that I can't identify it."

She frowned, but leaned over the microscope and adjusted it herself. After a long silence, her breath sucked in sharply. "It's a titanium based alloy."

"What? How is that possible!" He peered in when she moved aside, staring at it incredulously. "It's turning organic into inorganic? That's exactly the reverse of what it's supposed to do!"

"I don't know HOW." She snapped. "But that's what it's doing. It's taking our cells and turning them into some kind of organic titanium alloy." She looked up at him sharply. "Weren't the nanites made of titanium when we created them?"

He blinked. "Yes. They were. It was the lightest metal we could get to graft the necessary processors onto them. All other metal wasn't responsive enough."

"Then there's our answer."

Sam frowned, leaning back. "I don't get it. If it's changing organic into inorganic…what does that mean for us? Are we going to have lumps of metal grafted into our skin?"

"I don't know." She admitted quietly. "We need to do some further study, see what is happening before we know for sure. But one thing is for sure, if we don't stop it, it's going to keep spreading, and rapidly at that."

"Right." He sighed. "Can you isolate one for me? I'll see what I can pull up on the coding."

"Got it."

It wasn't easy. Catching one of the buggers was the easy part. Downloading the information wasn't. The nanites were originally programmed to use a specific wireless signal to co-ordinate their actions with the rest of their collective partners. This helped them work swiftly and efficiently, and it also enabled him to put in a 'stop' command. That was the first thing he tried once he had the nanite captive. Unfortunately, the wireless frequency that had been the active use for the nanites was changed, further evidence that they had mutated. He procured a sample from Sara's blood, and found that her samples didn't react either. Sighing in frustration, he began the arduous task of finding the exact wireless frequency the nanites used. And that began to give him a headache. It took him several hours until he finally was able to isolate the right frequency, which was startling. The nanites had not only added extra security precautions, but had encrypted their codes with their own unique programming. He felt like hurling the microscope against the wall in frustration.

Instead, he decided a break was in order, and ascended up to the med-room to see how the diagnoses was going on.

Sara glanced up at him as he joined them, watching the process from against the wall as the doc studied a child carefully, drawing some blood with much tears and cries in protest. "Hey." She greeted. "Going well?"

"Not really." He sighed. "How's the progress so far?"

"We're lucky." She admitted grimly. "So far, no one other than the employees are infected. No spouses, no kids. They all are clean in their scans, blood tests are clean. But…"

"Everyone?"

"Everyone." She agreed grimly. "All the employees who worked yesterday and were inside the base before decontamination are exposed. So far, no one seems to have developed as obvious of symptoms as you or I, likely because we were the first one's to be exposed."

"What about Red, Percy and the other techs?"

She sighed, lowering her gaze. "Red can't be found. Apparently he went camping with some buddies on some paid time off. No one knows where he is. As for Percy, he called in sick and won't answer his phone. Some of the other lab techs are still filtering in. I guess most of them felt crappy this morning so they called in sick."

He groaned. "Wonderful. And the General?"

"He's pissed. Very, very pissed." She said quietly. "He had to report the outbreak to his superiors. I hear that the Secretary of Defense is mobilizing some teams to send in and evaluate the situation."

"Evaluate?" Sam frowned worriedly. "That sounds more like 'contain' to me."

"Yes." She agreed grimly. "From what I hear, we're not to leave the confines of this facility, even though we've eliminated the possibility of air-born, direct contact, and inadvertent exposure. I'm not sure if they're convinced it's safe yet. That and they've got to take precautions in case this turns… the wrong way."

"If we start dying you mean."

Sara sighed, pushing her fingers to her eyes, head dipping slightly in defeat. "Yes."

Sam grimaced and swept her into a quick hug, pulling her close. "Hey. We're going to find a way out of this. We shouldn't start signing our death warrants just yet. We don't know enough about this epidemic to start giving up."

"Sorry, you're right." She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder lightly, watching the people as they moved in and out of line to be tested. "I guess I'm just feeling overwhelmed right now. Somehow I can't help but think this is all our fault."

"Maybe. I mean, we created them. But at the same time, we didn't know they were going to mutate. It was an accident, Sara. Don't blame yourself for this."

She smiled, tilting her head back to stare up at him, eyes tired. "You're right. Damn you."

Sam smiled, lightly brushing her cheek with his fingers, but paused as something caught his gaze. Carefully, he tilted her chin slightly, her hair falling back as he studied her face. "Your eyes… are you wearing contacts today?"

"No, why?"

"They're quite red."

"I didn't sleep well last night." She shrugged. "They tend to be red when I don't do that, or if I don't use my eye drops."

He frowned. "I see. But, somehow I don't think that this is quite the issue. Your eyes are bloodshot, but that's not what I meant by red." He tilted her head again. "Your iris is red. And I don't mean inflamed red, I mean they've gone from brownish amber to bright colored red."

She blinked, then pulled away, walking over to the nearby medicine cabinet on the med bay's walls, peering into her eyes through it's mirrored surface. "Damn. You're right." She frowned, glancing over at him. "I don't notice any difference visually."

"Maybe it burst some blood vessels in there somewhere." Sam said dubiously.

"Maybe."

Were it only so simple.

Fortunately, it turned out their hypothesis had been correct. Only those who had been at the base had been exposed. No one outside the employees was infected. This was both good and bad. Good that they had the contaminant under control, bad that everyone was angry, scared and nervous about what was going to happen.

Sara glanced around the crowded rec room, studying all the nervous faces gathered there. Everyone had finally been rounded up, with much protestation and frustration. Now, all eyes were watching the General as he strode into the hall, chiseled face worn and hard. The General was not an old man by any means, but years in the military had worn him down so that his hair was grey, his face worn and aged, his posture stiff and formal as he strode into the room wearing his standard fatigues. His grey eyes swept the crowd, pausing momentarily on Sara and Sam, then he took his place in the center of the rec room, arms loosely latched behind him. Moments later, the base commander walked in with a tired face, following the General and standing beside him as he gazed around the room, blue eyes thoughtful. "By now you're all aware of the situation in which we face." He said clearly, voice calm and cool, but confidant. "I won't sugar coat this. None of us know what will happen. I can assure you that we are working as quickly as possible to find a solution. Hopefully we will only be detained here for the shortest amount of time necessary and we can all return to our families shortly. I urge you to remain calm, speak with the doctor if you have any concerns or health questions, and weather this out as best as possible. Do your jobs in the meantime. This will help keep our minds off our situation, and enable us to find a solution faster. The doctor tells me that you need not worry about your families, they have not been affected, nor has anyone outside the base to our knowledge. So far this is a controlled accident, and we are working to solve it as quickly as possible." He inclined his head towards the man next to him. "General Taylor informs me that we have been asked to remain inside the facility borders. You may step outside, but do not approach the fence or leave. This is to maintain security and ensure we keep the situation contained. Please, try to cope with this situation as best you can. We have set up temporary barracks in the cafeteria, cots are there as well as blankets and pillows for you to use overnight. I realize this will be a tense situation for us all, but we will make it through this. Thank you."

There were varied murmurings, but overall everyone seemed to remain calm. Sara glanced at Sam who nodded and smiled tightly. "So far, panic minimal. That's a good sign."

"For now," She murmured quietly. "The moment they start finding out what the truth is, I doubt they'll stay calm."

"Then lets find a solution first before they find out."

He smiled tightly, but nodded and together they returned to the lab. It was slow going. Both of them worked in silence for the most part, focused on their work. But there came a time when Sam sat back rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm going to take a break, Sara." He glanced over at her, noting how she didn't look up. "You should too. You've been working too long at this."

"It's not going to solve itself, Sam." She murmured. "Go, rest. I'm going to keep working."

"You need to get some rest, Sara. You've been at this for nearly what..." He glanced at his watch. "Geeze, it's nearly midnight. Come on, get some rest."

"I'll be fine. Go on." She waved a hand. "Get out of here and stop distracting me."

He sighed, throwing her a sympathetic glance but turned and left her to her job. She was a workaholic, that's for sure. But he couldn't blame her for being obsessed. She felt this was her fault, and thus felt she had to fix it on her own. He shook his head, entering the cafeteria where the cots had been set up. It was dim there, but he found his way to an unoccupied one, grabbed a blanket and pillow, and settled down as best he could. It wasn't easy, but he eventually drifted off to a rather restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Area 51**

By: nightelfcrawler

* * *

**Chapter Three**

He woke a few hours later, feeling a little rested, but still drained. No one else was stirring, and a quick glance at his watch told him it was only 4 am. He sighed, draping his arm over his forehead, and promptly winced as his forehead collided with something hard and unyielding. Frowning, he lifted his hand and turned it over, staring at the exposed area where the rash had been. Something was off. The skin there was very pale, almost pure white, dead looking, and appeared to have taken on an almost dried look like someone who had just undergone a severe sunburn and was about to peel. Tentatively he ran his fingers over the area, and felt a strange sensation in his arm. The affected area was hard, unyielding, the skin felt like fabric covering, had no sensation at all, but the area beneath felt fine. He idly scratched at the surface, finding it itchy and uncomfortable, and froze when the skin ripped aside like thin paper, revealing something shiny beneath. His breath caught. Pure metal, bright and polished had been revealed. Feeling his heart's beat increase, he slowly pulled the thin skin layers back, feeling no pain, seeing no blood, and saw the metal had completely replaced his entire affected forearm, spread down towards his wrist, and as his breath caught, he realized it had gone farther, sweeping down into his hand and fingers, completely changing them. But as he stared, he felt a thrill of excitement run through him. Instead of turning the whole thing into one lump of metal, unbending and without use, small plates covered his wrist, and as he turned it, he found he had complete and full movement. Wiggling his fingers, he found that plating there, barely visible until they moved, worked flawlessly. He felt absolute NO difference, with one exception, he realized that his arm was much heavier than it should be. His mind whirled. Then this transformation had happened not just at the surface level, but it had permeated his bones and tissue as well.

If it was changing them, and keeping function though... He smiled slowly. It meant possibly their lives weren't in danger. They had feared the change would mean that their vital organs would stop functioning entirely, but if instead they were being converted into mechanical equivalents, then the death sentence may not be as imminent. And it gave them a little more time to work with.

He rose quickly, leaving the cafeteria, heading down to the lab to speak with Sara about his findings, only to find her slumped over the workbench, head resting on her arms, clearly having finally slumped into sleep at last. He smiled slightly approaching and brushing her dark hair back out of her face, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Sara. Hey..." He paused then, as his hand touched hard metal beneath her lab coat. His breath caught slightly, and careful not to try and wake her, he pushed back her hair and blinked at what he saw. Like his arm, the metal seemed to have progressed up her shoulder and neck, and was creeping up her jaw line, a dusky silver color, almost like dark titanium, darker than the silver covering his arm. He could see plates, joints, and his heart nearly turned upside down as he caught sight of exposed wires and cables in a chink in the armor near her neck where her head was resting against her arms. "Dear god." he whispered. "It's true. This isn't just surface changes. This is going deeper than that." Sara stirred slightly with a low groan, eyes half-opening to tiredly stare up at him blinking blearily. "Hey." he greeted softly. "You fell asleep in here."

"Did I?" she asked blearily, sitting up. Sam grimaced as he heard audible clicks and scrapes coming from her, though she seemed too tired to notice. He lightly ran his fingers over her exposed neck, and elected a frown from her in response. "What?"

"See for yourself." He said quietly, sitting down on a stool next to her and baring his arm. Her eyes widened in shock the moment she saw. "I woke up like this."

"My God." She took his arm, slowly running her fingers over the metal, pushing at his fingers and moving them with obvious rapt fascination and a healthy dose of disgust. "Do you feel anything?"

"Yes, actually. It feels... different, almost like I'm wearing thick gloves, but I can still feel it." He murmured softly, wiggling his hand. "It feels completely normal, if heavy, otherwise." She stared up at him, eyes wide, and he blinked. Her irises had completely turned a bright crimson color, brighter than possible if she'd had broken blood vessels. His gaze swept down to the plating creeping up her neck and gently traced his fingers over the joints, electing a small shiver from her. "You're affected as well, dear." He whispered, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "I believe we all are going to have to learn to cope with this very quickly.

Her eyes shot down to where his hand was tracing, her hand slapping to her neck the same time she sucked in alarmed breath. "Shit." She whispered faintly, the color quickly draining from her cheeks as she stared up at him, fear rising to her face. "It's like yours?"

"Yes," he agreed quietly, eyes tracing her neck, noting how elegant the metal curved, seeming to almost slim down her form. "Darker colored, but the same."

"God." She groaned, a shudder running through her frame as she turned her gaze away from the strangeness of his arm, staring at the lab make-up across the room from them, disgust and fear written all over her. "I can't believe this… is it even possible? How is it doing this?!"

"You're the one who stayed up all night to find the answers," Sam reminded her gently. "Did you find anything out?"

She sighed, glancing at the microscope, one hand tentatively reaching up to touch the metal plates of her neck, ever curious despite the raw fear visible in her expression. "I discovered one thing… the mutation must have caused it, of course, but the nanites aren't breaking down compounds like they're supposed to. We designed them to take the elements, decompose them, and turn them into biodegradable components, right?" At his nod, she continued. "So, we obviously didn't think they were as intelligent as we made them. They have the capacity to learn, to evolve. Somehow they've changed their programming so that they're not taking metal and turning it organic, but the other way around, and instead of decomposing it, they're just converting it. In one way, out the other. The only problem is, I know their coding directs them to do this, but I can't figure out how or why it happened."

Sam frowned, rubbing his wrist idly, still trying to figure out how he felt about an arm made of metal plating and who knew what else beneath the surface. "Ok, well let's look at this bit by bit. Firstly, we can be assured that this accident isn't as dangerous as we thought." When she shot him an incredulous stare, he smiled thinly. "Well look." He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. "It's fully functional. Which means, we may not die from this like we feared."

"Sure, we're just being transformed into robots."

"Yes well there is that."

Sara shivered suddenly, her face appearing pale and drawn. "Jesus Christ… I mean…" She glanced up at him, eyes wide and fearful. "Jesus, Sam. What's happening to us?"

Sam grimaced but quickly put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, to which she didn't resist, leaning against him and closing her eyes, suppressing a shudder as she took a deep breath. "Hey. Come on, I know how this is. Believe me, I know how utterly and absolutely frightening this is. But at the same time, think about the possibilities. Think about what this means. We've uncovered something amazing, something astounding. This is something straight out of a science fiction movie."

"Yeah, right. Frankenstein's' monster." She muttered, opening her eyes and staring up at him tiredly. "Sam, what the fuck do you think the rest of the world is going to see us as, tell me that? If this gets much worse, what do you think is going to happen. We're military employees, this is a military base. I don't think I have to elaborate on that. What about our families? What will they say? What will the world see us as, people or mistakes?"

Sam frowned, staring down at her with a bit of trepidation. As much as he hated doom saying, the questions she raised were rather important. Though he knew of no situation like this ever happening in existence, he knew that the government was going to no doubt keep this very very secret. Which meant, they weren't going to be allowed out of the base, to see their families though they might be permitted phone calls. They would essentially be prisoners until the government could determine what to do with them.

And he didn't want to even think about what would happen if he tried to go get a burger.

"Come on, we're jumping the gun here." He soothed quietly, holding her close. "Let's just forget about the repercussions, the fears and work on a solution. Let's think about this rationally, and not let our imaginations run away with us, or we're not going to make any progress. It's not going to help anyone to panic now."

She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. "You're right. Of course." He smiled tightly, watching as she steeled herself, carefully rebuilding her mental barriers after the moment of weakness she had experienced. "We need to analyze this, gather as much data as we can so we can unravel how it happened. Only then can we solve this and turn it back around."

"Exactly."

Sam had to admit, Sara was a strong individual. Granted this situation was anything but usual, but they were both scientists, driven by the curiosity of their own minds to find answers. Once she put the fears of reality aside, Sara was all business. First, they decided the best course of action was to find out exactly what was going on with their bodies. They did x-rays, blood tests and even went so far as to try and get a first-hand look by prying open a panel in Sam's arm. Fortunately, it didn't hurt past the initial 'this should gross me out' stage, and what they found was positively amazing. The nanites had indeed transformed their DNA on every level of their structure. Bone had transformed into solid metal, shaped exactly the same as a bone should be. Instead of nerves and tendons, wires and cables twisted around the struts that served as bone. Blood was non-existent entirely, seemingly contained within metal pipes and clear plastic tubing, a strange filtration of reddish pinkish liquid, blue fluids and clear ones. They took samples of the substances, and found an amazing discovery. The pink fluid appeared to be some kind of charged energy particles in organic compost, what had been blood. It had DNA, and all the white blood-cell structures, only everything had been turned into synthetic compounds. The blue fluid appeared to substitute as water, a coolant to the systems. The clear liquid served as lubricant to the systems, hydraulic fluids and cleansing liquid. The real twist however, was how it was even possible for the organic and inorganic to merge so perfectly, for the blood not to invade the newly transformed system, for the bloodstream to become contaminated by fluids that technically should be toxic. They found the answer after much head scratching, in a most unique way. It seemed the nanites were taking the fluid, blocking some of it and transforming what was necessary to feed the change, so that organic and inorganic did not invade in on each other's territory, but helped facilitate the change naturally. In addition, they found increasing evidence that the nanites were not only multiplying more and more rapidly as the transformation progressed, but that they were working ahead, changing bone first, then working on tendons and veins, before finally transmuting the skin's surface. It was a fascinating process to watch, even if the progress was too slow to see by the naked eye.

In the end, they came up with an approximate timetable. By the end of the week, everyone in the base was going to be fully transformed.

Needless to say, the information didn't go over well with the General.

Together, they stood uncomfortably before the man in his office, shifting on their feet as they avoided his sharp gaze. "Say WHAT now?" Was the quiet statement, his voice rich with anger, but tightly controlled. One couldn't say that they didn't respect the General. He was, after all, a seasoned soldier with experience in the Gulf, and multiple skirmishes overseas. He was decorated, his medals hung on the wall behind his plain ordinary wooden desk, the only bit of color in the otherwise functional office. Slowly leaning over the desk, folding his weathered hands together, his grey eyes bore into them intently, studying each of them in turn. "You don't KNOW how to fix this?"

"Um, no sir." Sara said quickly, lifting her chin slightly in determination against his fierce stare. No matter how much she loathed the man, she never let him stare her down. "Not yet, anyway. We've done extensive studies, and we think we understand how the process is progressing. We think given enough time, we can engineer a cure and reverse the process."

General Marcus Trudell did NOT look happy. Not one bit. "How much time?"

"Um." Sara fidgeted with her fingernail. "We're not sure. We estimate that we could be looking at complete cellular conversion before a week is up, but we're not entirely sure if—"

"I will not repeat myself. How much time?"

"The honest truth is, sir," Sam offered quickly, noting the rising flush of anger in Sara's face. "We have no idea if we even CAN reverse it."

Marcus stared at them, eyes narrowing dangerously. He slowly sat back, closing them, and ran a hand over his short buzz-cut grey hair. "You may not be able to reverse it?" He repeated in a cold monotone. "You do realize that I am overdue for a report with the Secretary of Defense, are you not? And you expect me to tell him that this… disease, for a lack of better word, is enacting a permanent change to our bodies that can NOT be reversed?"

"Not yet, sir." Sara said firmly. "We need more time, but we're not going to abandon our efforts."

Marcus' gaze shifted back to her, piercing and intense, making her cringe instinctively. "You had better not, Dr. Shriver." He leaned forward, wrenching his shirt sleeve up, revealing a blotchy right arm covered in black metal plating on top, silver extending up past his elbow beneath. "Do you see this?" She grimaced but nodded, tight-lipped. "This is inexcusable. NO one, no matter their ineptitudes in science, should be allowed to tamper with God-given human bodies. No one. I am NOT going to call the Secretary of Defense and tell him that we are all royally fucked, do you understand me? I want an answer. I want a solution, and I want it yesterday."

She gulped. "Yes sir, we're trying. But this situation is partly unexplained due to the unknown nature of how the nanites mutated…"

A fist into the metal desk made them both jump in alarm. "I don't want excuses, I want results. Now stop sniveling in my office and get back to work on this immediately. Results on my desk in 24 hours. Dismissed."

Both of them didn't hesitate in departing his office as quickly as they could, shutting the door firmly before they even dared look at one another. "Bloody hell. I see why you hate him."

"Word."

They both made their way down the hallway, just in time to nearly bowl over a tall lanky man in the process. "Oh, goodness." Sam gasped, pulling Sara back just in time as Orson caught himself on the wall to keep from tumbling over them. "Sorry sir!"

"No, no don't apologize." Orson smiled rather warmly down at them, though his face was strained as it seemed many residents of the base were today. "I should have gone at a more reasonable pace around the corner." His blue eyes swept over them calmly. "I take it you just finished a discussion with Marcus."

"If you could call it that, sir." Sam sighed. "He's not happy."

"No, I can understand why." Orson's smile tightened slightly. "He's had the Defense Department breathing down his neck ever since we put the base on lock-down. He's understandably nervous." His smile faded a little, and he studied them. "Can you give me an update before I go speak with him?"

"We don't really have much to offer." Sara spoke up, sighing. Sam noticed how Orson's gaze swept down to her neck, obviously seeing the visible effects of the nanite's presence. "We're working on it as quickly as we can."

"Take your time." He said soothingly. "I know the tendency is to rush out of alarm from what is happening to us, but mistakes can be made when one isn't careful. You both look exhausted, have you rested much since the incident yesterday."

"A few hours sleep, but that's about it."

"Try taking an hour off. I know Marcus can be impatient, but a refreshed mind and rested body is more important than wearing yourself down." He smiled warmly. "Try to get your minds off it, even for an hour. I recommend some rest if you can. I know we aren't equipped for many overnight stays, but someone's taken to raiding the storage and is trying to cook up something edible for breakfast."

"Thanks, sir."

"Oh, don't be so formal, doctor." He smiled warmly. "Unlike the General, I'm just the civilian overseer. I don't demand salutes."

They both laughed, and he took his leave from them.

Needless to say, the rest of the base was not so encouraging.

They soon came to realize that the other people on the base were not so open-minded as the base commander was. The moment they entered the cafeteria, glares were directed towards them the entire time. Though no one directly approached them, the stares were all evident.

It was their fault. And everyone knew it. Everyone was scared. Everyone wanted it to stop, and it couldn't. They were afraid.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere was not improving.


	4. Chapter 4

**Area 51**

By: nightelfcrawler

_Author's note: Apologies for the short chapter, I couldn't really see the next part fitting with this one, so it got chopped into two. _

* * *

**Chapter Four**

By the end of the day, a full 48 hours after their initial exposure, they were so exhausted they could barely function. In the end, they had finally given in to their bodies desire to sleep and dragged two cots down to the lab to avoid being with the mainstream group, shut the lights off and crashed. In retrospect, Sam realized it probably hadn't been the smartest thing to do, sleep in the room where their exposure had started. But then, there was no real increased danger in it either, supposedly.

Sam wasn't sure how long they slept, but he was awoken by a loud shout from somewhere above them, jolted up in his cot and sat perfectly still, listening. Off to the side, he saw motion as Sara sat up, doing the same thing, listening intently to what was happening in the above floors. It sounded like angry shouts mixed with crashes and bangs.

Sara was on her feet in an instant. "They're here."

"Who?" Sam whispered sharply.

"Backup." She hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling. "Apparently the military decided not to wait for the General's report. They're storming the base."

"What? But why?" Sam whispered following her down the catwalk into the engine room where the generators were humming loudly. "We're not a threat! It was an accident, and we're working on a cure!"

"Are you going to try and tell that to them?" She snapped, whirling around. In the darkness, Sam was more than a little disturbed to see a strange crimson glow emanating from her eyes in the generator's presence. A shiver ran down his back as she whipped back around, pulling the door at the end of the room open, revealing a narrow ladder leading up. "I'd rather not stay and find out what they're up to. Me, I'm getting the hell out of here while we still can."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea!" Sam protested, glancing over his shoulder. "Shouldn't we stay close with everyone else? I mean, all the research and equipment is here, we can't do anything without it!"

"I have a lab in my apartment." Sara said firmly, climbing swiftly up the ladder. "We can do our research there."

Sam blinked. "I should have seen that one coming."

"Yes you should have."

They climbed up the ladder swiftly, saying nothing until Sara reached the latch, opened it with much struggling against the heavy door, and scrambled out into the desert, lowering a hand to help him up. Sam grabbed it, and she hauled him to his feet. The exit was a small hatch on the lee side of the building, sheltered from the front gate, and giving them a clear shot run to their cars if they chose to make a dash for it. "Ok." Sam whispered, eyes warily studying the soldiers at the front gate. "Now what? Rush them in a car?"

"Not with MY car!" She hissed back defensively. "Use yours, we can bust out the back gate."

"You realize if we run the blockade, they'll know we've escaped?"

"Crap." She hissed. "Then we'll just have to break through in an unguarded area. There's the south entrance, that hasn't been used in ages. The gate is all rusted. They wouldn't expect anyone to use that one, let's go there."

"Isn't that the one....?"

"Yes, but I don't see any other way out!"

"Damn it... fine, let's take my jeep." He groaned. they peered out watching the soldiers until their backs were turned, and dashed for the jeep. Fortunately it was out of direct line of sight and they made it there, slipping inside without drawing attention. Then, Sam put it into neutral, and using their feet to push it away out of view, they slipped the jeep around the building before starting it and tearing off across the open desert. The reason that Sam was reluctant to use the south entrance became obvious as they tore towards the barred gate. It hadn't been used in some time, and was barricaded with locked and barred chains, several rows of crates used for storage, and exited onto the salt plains that was NOT fun to drive across with a convertible jeep. Still, Sam grit his teeth and gunned it. "My insurance company is SO not covering this." He muttered, flooring it as they both braced themselves. With a mighty crash, they slammed into the gates, the front of his jeep lurching and caving in, but it was enough to bust their way through amid flying splinters and sand. Unperturbed, the jeep rocketed off across the salt plains, heading south towards Vegas.

"We can't go back to your place." Sara said voice shaking a bit from their rather exciting ordeal. "They'll know you've busted out. They may think I'm still on base for a short period of time before figuring out I'm with you. So we should get as much work done while we can."

"And after that?" Sam glanced over at her, blinking in alarm seeing how far the metal had spread up her cheek, starting to fawn over her temple and upper cheekbone. "We don't have much time to work on this before we're going to be totally screwed you realize. I hate to point it out, but you're going to need to..." He gestured to her face, and she grimaced, lightly touching the affected area.

"I know." She said faintly. "But what choice do we have?"

Their journey back to town was otherwise uneventful. They parked the jeep in an abandoned lot several blocks away and walked the rest of the way on foot. By now it was dark, so all Sara had to do to hide her obvious deformity was to let her hair dangle low over her face on the left side. they arrived at her apartment building, a high-end ritzy state of the art facility with bellman and everything, who greeted them politely as they hurried inside. Sam didn't have time to be impressed with the polished marble floors, the clear glass elevator that rose up amidst foliage to rocket to the penthouse suite, nor the incredibly astounding view overlooking the city on one side, a fancy golf course and lake on the other. Instead they both hurried inside and once the elevator doors opened into her penthouse suite, she rushed forward turning lights on, pulling the drapes quickly. Only then did she collapse on the sofa with a sigh, looking up at him with a distant expression.

Sam smiled tightly and sat down next to her, as she moved to let him. "Hey... hang in there. It could be worse."

"Worse?" she asked, lifting an arched eyebrow at him, touching the metal spreading over her face. "How can THIS be worse?"

"Um..." He scratched his arm, glancing down at it. "Well I guess not. But still...we can't give up. We only have so much time to work on this before..."

"Before we turn into freaks." She said bitterly. "Just say it. That's what's happening here."

"Not freaks." He said quietly. "Just... something else. We don't even know what it will fully do."

she sighed and sat up, scooting so she could lean against the arm of the sofa, pulling her heeled feet up so she could wrap her arms around them. "This is just... unbelievable, Sam. I mean, what's everyone going to think about us? What are we going to do? By tomorrow I doubt I'll be able to even walk around outside!" She bit her lip, no tears falling, but a pinched expression on her face. Sam sighed, pulling her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, gently rubbing her back as she leaned her head against his shoulder with a soft sigh. "I'm scared."

"I know." he said quietly. "So am I. I'm just better at hiding it I suppose. I blame my upbringing. Brits tend to shrug off the weird and unexplained and just get down to adjusting, moving over the panic stage entirely."

"Lucky."

He smiled tightly, gently rubbing the metal on her neck, watching as she shivered slightly. The plates around her neck strangely tightened as he moved his fingers over them, and he had to smile. It seemed that their new 'skin' was just as responsive as ever, and the slight tensing was the equivalent of goose bumps. He lightly squeezed her shoulder, a bit disappointed when it was completely unyielding. "Are you hungry? Maybe some wine?"

"Shouldn't we be working?"

"Probably. But after the day we've had, I can't say I'm thinking clear enough to make much progress." He admitted quietly. "We haven't slept much, or even eaten anything, Sara. We need to take a break and try to get a hold on this situation with clear minds."

"And you think wine will help?"

He smiled. "Well it will help us relax. Take our minds off everything."

She snorted. "I can't say I disagree there." Sighing, she rose and walked smartly over to the open kitchen area, wood-floors and granite countertops with fancy modern lights dangling from the ceiling. She bent over, opening a wine cooler and pulling out a bottle. "Red ok?"

"Yes, that's fine."

She pulled two large goblets from the wine rack and proceeded to open the bottle, pouring it quickly and walking back to him, handing a glass over to which he accepted with a polite nod, sipping it slowly. "Nice." He commented. "French?"

"Italian." She smirked slightly. "My father brought it back from one of his business trips over there. Apparently it's a private vintage, only one hundred bottles made."

Sam's eyebrow lifted. "You're giving me what, thousand dollar wine?"

"If we don't enjoy it now, who knows when we might get to." She pointed out somberly. "For all we know, when this transformation reaches our organs, it may take away simple pleasures as this."

"You have a point." He said quietly, glancing down at his hand, flexing it and turning it over. "I can't help but wonder just how far this is going to go. We already know it's not just on the surface. But what do you think will happen when it reaches our internal organs?"

"So far, evidence points towards slow painless transformation." She muttered, taking a deep draught of the spiced red wine. "I haven't felt any pain, have you?" At the shake of his head she nodded. "So perhaps that means that as you surmised earlier, we may not find ourselves faced with a terminal situation. Our minds remain intact for now, we should take another snapshot of our bodies to see how far it's progressed when we start working again." She paused. "What happens if we can't reverse it?" She asked quietly, not looking at him.

"Well... I think we'll just have to worry about that when we rule it out." He said quietly, catching her hand in his. "We can't give in to panic. If we think that there's no way out, then there won't be one. We need to study everything we have at our disposal and find out everything we can. If we understand how this is happening, we might be able to more easily find a way to reverse it."

She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, curling up there on the couch. "Can we just... sit here for a while? I don't really want to think about it."

He smiled tightly. He understood. It was overwhelming, and they had been rushing around full-tilt trying to find answers. But so far they hadn't come up with any. It was discouraging, and frightening. And there seemed to be no way to slow the halt of the change, or reverse it. He didn't want to speak his thoughts out loud to her, since he knew how disturbed she was, but he had the sneaking suspicion from studying the results that there was no way out of this. Some things just could not be reversed. It was like mixing together vinegar and water, you could not separate them once mixed, not without drastic situations. He turned his hand over, doing his best not to jostle her, staring at the shiny metal that now composed his 'skin'. It was fascinating, he thought, his scientific mind working over the impossibilities of what was happening. He supposed he wasn't as frightened about the situation as she was, he had little to lose. His mother was more like him in mind-set, and she was nowhere nearby. He made enough money to get by, but unlike Sara whose family was rich, he did not mind if he had to give up his current life in favor of studying this miraculous change. But he also knew better than to voice it aloud to her, for he knew she would be upset by it. Sara was highly emotional, perhaps because she was a woman, but also high-strung. She loved her lifestyle, rich and high-society was her life. To give all that up, for someone as adjusted to it as she was, spoiled if you prefer, it was no easy task to ask of her. Add to that the fact she desired fame and fortune highly, a rather greedy desire perhaps, but she was smart, and she could easily achieve it with her powerful desire to succeed.

But at the same time, as he glanced down at her pained face, her eyes closed as she drifted into a light sleep, wine glass empty and drooping in her hand, he knew that the bold brash scientist facade hid an insecure person hidden within. He hadn't wanted to pry into her personal life, but he had the feeling that there was a story behind her life. Usually the rich and famous had such hidden stories. One didn't become rich and famous by being nice, normally.

He brushed the dark hair from her face, staring down at the metal extending itself over her left side. It was curious how it was progressing. Tiny metal plates, so delicate and nearly invisible made up the metal around her jaw and chin, allowing for full range of motion as she had currently. The metal had curled up her ear, half-transforming it. It seemed delicate, smaller, closer pressed to her head, her earrings dangling loosely from her lobes, in danger of becoming merged with the transformation. He carefully pulled them out, placing them on the table, doing his best not to jostle her, but as he leaned back, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder that made him wince. It felt like something had popped. But there was no more pain as he leaned back and moved it carefully. Sighing, he glanced down at Sara, removing the wine glass from her hand and placing it aside, gently positioning her so she rested comfortably against him as he shut his eyes and took a slow deep breath, listening to the gentle trickle of water from a fountain somewhere in the room. It didn't take long for him to drift into slumber.


End file.
